


365 Pieces of Paper

by ladygray99



Category: White Collar
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-13
Updated: 2011-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-15 15:22:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygray99/pseuds/ladygray99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal made the calendar himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	365 Pieces of Paper

Neal made the calendar himself. 365 pieces of imported origami paper, each one a slightly different hue, hand numbered and carefully glued together.

Peter had laughed when he first saw it but it sat on Neal's desk and each day he would strip away a page. The flower or animal that would come from the page seemed to invariably find its way to Peter's desk.

Peter took home the first flower and gave it to El. The second creation, a sea green frog, was given to a six year old witness. The third was left on the coffee table and eaten by Satchmo. Peter started sliding them into a shoebox after that but it didn't take long before the shoebox was filled.

The 40th was a blood red butterfly. Neal stuck it to Peter's office window somehow, possibly with superglue. Peter was going to yell about defacing government property but it was wet and grey beyond the window and instead Peter found himself spending the rest of the winter turning around to look at the splash of red.

Winter had come and gone when people started asking Neal what he was going to do next. The calendar was half its original size and people were starting to notice. Peter was starting to notice. Neal never properly answered the question, even when Peter asked. He'd joke about the Mona Lisa or Fort Knox then slide the subject away.

It was a blue tropical fish, the number 30 still half visible on its side that caused the first jolt of real panic in Peter's chest. Thirty days, one month, then Neal was gone, his debt to society officially repaid.

"What next?" He heard Jones ask.

"Buckingham Palace, the crown jewels." Neal replied with laughter.

"Don't." Peter snapped.

"You're right." Neal agreed solemnly. "You hear stories abut English prisons. Of course they'd have to catch me first."

Jones laughed. Neal laughed. Peter thought about crushing the little fish in his hand.

Two weeks later on the day Peter found a yellow paper rose on his desk he overheard Neal talking to a probie agent.

"I'm only good at catching thieves and being one and I don't think they let you into Quantico with a felony rap sheet. Besides don't you need an invitation or something?"

 _'Stay.'_ Peter thought but the words died on his lips. Instead he took the rose home to El.

"He's going to run. He's going to clear out his secret stash and be on the next plane to Switzerland or Brazil or something."

"He told you that?" El asked as she slipped the rose into a cut glass bowl contain a dozen other paper flowers.

"Of course not but what else is he going to do?"

El looked at him hard. Even after 14 years it still felt like she was reading his mind with that look. Peter just sighed and took Satchmo for a walk.

Neal was in the office early the next day. Peter arrived to find a white swan on his keyboard. The swan had a couple of black smudges that had been the number 13. He peered out his window. Neal was hunched over his desk like the rest of the agents, a stack of files and a coffee cup right at hand.

“Stay.” Peter said out loud to the solid glass and the empty room. Neal sat up and for a moment Peter though he'd heard but instead he stretched his back then ran his fingers over the twelve remaining pieces of paper.

Twelve pieces of paper, twelve days left for Peter to figure out how to say stay.


End file.
